


The Way it Happens

by EucratesBrice



Series: Jack of all One Shots, master of none. [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, American Football, Derek Hale is a Softie, Everyone Loves Stiles Stilinski, Fluff, Football Player Derek Hale, M/M, Misunderstandings, One Shot, Original Character(s), POV Outsider, Stiles Stilinski Cooks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 04:24:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17717981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EucratesBrice/pseuds/EucratesBrice
Summary: There were some things in- albeit being inalienable truths- that were better off unsaid. The amount of insider information and bits of unwanted fun facts that Derek gives out about his Stiles is one of them.And Boyd loves Stiles, he really does. The whole team does. But sometimes, they aren't too sure if Stiles loves their captain as much as their captain does Stiles.-In which Boyd and the rest of Derek's college football team think Stiles is breaking Derek's heart and is leggy brunette when in reality they are two losers hopelessly in love and while Stiles is a brunette, he's very much male and his legs fail at normal limb functions.





	The Way it Happens

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Short skirts verse](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/503800) by twentysomething. 



> So I've seen so many fics where Stiles rants about Derek and no one believes Derek is real but let's be honest, Stiles is a catch and Derek cannot do better than that masterpiece so here's everyone mistaking Stiles for a woman and thinking Stiles is the coolest and just a lot of friendship magic.  
> Note: this is kind of based off the Shorts Skirts verse which is a destiel fic! I haven't found that fic on Ao3. But I figured out how to tag it!!!!!!! Read it and weep it's so cute I miss Destiel fics so muuchhhhhh

There were some things in life- albeit being inalienable truths- that were better off unsaid. The amount of insider information and bits of unwanted fun facts that Derek gives out about his Stiles is one of them.

Over the many years of knowing the man, Boyd had to come to terms with the fact that evening sessions of Derek unintentionally re-creating the script for 10 Things I Hate About You – except substituted for 100 Things I Love About Stiles- were going to be a permanent fixture in his life. And if having to listen to Derek wax poetry that Shakespeare would envy was a part of being his friend, Boyd would endure it. It was really just one slight con amidst the long list of pros to Derek's friendship. Well it’s not really Derek's friendship that’s worth the endless rants, it’s Derek’s friends.

The girl named Allison who sounds far too dangerous for her own good is their supplier for all things Netflix, and the weird kid named Scott seems to be a joint package with Allison so Boyd will take it. Isaac is the only one Boyd has actually met, and Isaac makes for a brilliant mediator to the tall, dark and terrifying human wall that is Derek. And Stiles, the mysterious and elusive and somewhat fictional sounding Stiles, what ever it – _they_ – may be, makes a sickeningly good brownie. Sometimes Stiles sends them homemade granola bars.

Stiles is Boyd's favourite.

Stiles is Erica's favourite too, but Boyd isn’t even jealous because, firstly he doesn’t even know what a _Stiles_ is and secondly he cannot blame Erica for loving Stiles. Boyd would leave her for Stiles in a minute. Less than even. Stiles makes them lemon bars sometimes.

And it’s not that Derek isn’t amazing by himself- once one passes through the _ten_ _thousand_ walls of brooding and teen angst that somehow made its way to Derek’s twenties, one would actually encounter a decent human being with a martyr complex and a dangerously stupid need to do anything for his friends. Plus, Derek has looks that Death would avoid. Judging by how he drives and crosses the road and is weirdly fond of lurking around in the thicket behind their apartment complex, Boyd’s pretty sure Derek _has_ encountered the grim reaper several times, but just told him to fuck off and the reaper had followed suit. While Boyd can hold his own ground, nothing says fuck off like Derek Hale. In fact, it’s possible that all Derek Hale does is say fuck off. The guy isn’t exactly FunShine Bear. It’s entirely probable that the only thing Derek likes in this human world is _Stiles_.

“And honestly, Stiles doesn’t even have to try- exams are nothing. Stiles will pass with flying colours, honestly. That stupid fucking brain, you know? He's so smart,” Derek rattles off, currently aimlessly staring at the microwave that reheats the pasta Stiles sent over.

Stiles lives a state away and still finds ways to send them pasta. Boyd is so ready to get on board the Stiles train. Boyd may be a conductor of the Stiles train at this point.

“Honestly, Stiles should consider culinary school if that dumb tech major thing is being such a pain in the ass. I trust that the reasons for staying is wise- but honestly it sounds complicated and stupid as fuck. Doesn’t it? Also, do you think I’m heating the pasta too much that it’s going to run dry?”

Boyd isn’t too sure if food _runs dry_. There a different way to word that sentence, absentmindedly Boyd thinks that Stiles would know.

“Yeah,” he responds.

Derek huffs and takes the pasta dish out of the microwave and unceremoniously shoves it towards Boyd. The grin on Boyd’s face cannot be hidden, and he isn’t even going to try. Derek rolls his eyes, and turns to fish out a redbull from the fridge.

“The team is going to be here soon,” he huffs, “so you better finish that fast. Unless you want to share...with Alex.”

Boyd does not. He finishes off the pasta in record time.

As promised, the whole team assembles in Boyd’s and Derek’s loft, turning the usually pristine abode to a mess of shoes and socks and Dorito crumbs. The weird thing about Derek is how much Derek loves to clean- he once said that it had something to do with having to him is an apartment complex so shitty it rated lower than an abandoned train car, but Boyd isn’t too sure if he heard right because it was hidden in the middle of a Stiles rant. And Boyd loves Derek, he really does. He puts up with all the growling and huffing and lack of communication and he’d do anything for the big guy, he would. But sometimes listening to a Stiles rant is just not one of Boyd’s abilities. It takes a special set of mental skills to be able to listen to your best friend practically drool over some Stiles creature for hours on end. The worst part is that although they’ve roomed together for an year now and been in the same team, attached to the hip for three, Boyd isn’t too sure if this chick returns Derek’s feelings and instead is just the kind of person that mother hens over her friends. The rest of the team isn’t sure either. Because, yes, even though they don’t room with their captain, doesn’t mean they don’t have to endure long soliloquies about Stiles. At this point, the team is admittedly worried. No one wants to see the big man heart broken. That’d be like witnessing army dog break it’s leg. A creature of terror being reduced to a whining mess. It would be a sight worth fearing. Plus, that means the team would have to start hating Stiles. And depending on the nature of the rejection, they word have to actively make Stiles regret giving up the glorious specimen of human that is Derek. And the team likes Stiles way too much for that.

Boyd watches Derek line everyone’s shoes neatly by the door, and sighs. This Stiles better be head over heels in love with Derek, and they both better get seriously laid because the frustration that’s coming off like waves from Derek is suffocating him.

 

It happens because of Alex. One second they are practicing drills – read; gently tackling each other to the grass in attempts to both get rid of some of the building frustrations and anger that midterms inevitably brings on as well as to practice the tackles- and then the next second Alex is suggesting Derek take a good and long field trip to UPENN so he can get rid of all the pent up sexy energy. Within the third second, Alex is speaking French to the grass. Derek gets off of the smaller boys back, huffing his disapproval.

“Touchy subject?” Alex mutters, pushing himself onto his elbows and glancing over at Derek over his shoulder, “listen mate, just go over and bloody spew out your feelings. You have got to. You absolutely have to.”

Derek pointedly ignores him, and opts for grabbing the football from Josh's hands. He announces that the new drill is some mundane passing drill, and Boyd suspects it’s because they have to all stand at far ends of the field where non of them can bring up the Stiles subject. They all groan but follow suit, but it’s not without Alex quipping,

“All I want is for the man to stop taking his unrequited sexual tension out on me via tackle. Is that too much for a man to ask?”

It’s the wrong thing to say, and suddenly Alex is French kissing the sweaty surface of the leather ball. Boyd has never laughed so hard in his entire goddamn life, and he has Stiles to indirectly thank for that.

As funny as it is, they are all on the edge after that. It’s like Alex drew back an entirely new curtain, and from their brand new vantage point, Derek sounds sad. Incredibly sad. The whole unrequited love thing gets old fast, and all they can do is stare at Derek longingly and try to set him up with as many leggy blondes as they can. Erica helps, but despite her most valiant efforts, the whole mission is a fail. Every girl runs away scared of Derek’s extremely expressive eyebrows that sadly have just one single expression and that is annoyance. Either that, or they march out of the loft yelling about how if they have to endure one more second listening about Stiles they will destroy the entire building. Boyd can relate. Stiles is his least favourite person right now. Derek might be a big hunk of self appointed misery, but he’s still an amazing guy. He’s like a puzzle. A fun puzzle. To people who like puzzles. What’s worse is that after every _totally not planned accidental date_ , Derek will corner a member of the team and tell them to leave his love life the fuck alone. His words, not Boyd’s. The man, as it appears, only ever realizes they are dates after each date finishes. And a furious Derek is a fearful Derek.

However, it’s only when Isaac, the kid Derek apparently practically adopted – and seriously how can this Stiles refuse to date a man that adopts kids who’ve been abused, he’s like the perfect husband material- pays his biannual visit that everything changes. When girl number Boyd Can’t Count So High storms out of the room, and whose example is followed by a very angry brooding Derek who storms off to the university gym, Isaac absolutely loses his mind.

“Are you guys fucking kidding me? Stop trying to set Derek up. He. Does. Not. Need. That. God fuck that, stay out of his personal life. Do you have no respect? If Stiles hears about this- if anything and I swear to any god in existence, if  _anything_ happens to them- so much as a miniscule fight over this whole ordeal, I will make you all individually pay for this,” he seethes.

It’s brutal. Boyd has never seen a teenager emit so much anger and absolute rage. It’s almost like Isaac shares Derek’s boiling blood. The team dutifully and obediently ceases all attempts to make Derek move on. Isaac may be a child, but if he’s Derek child then there’s a fair chance he knows just how to make them pay and to get away with it. Plus, Boyd knows that Isaac used to work at a cemetery. He knows what that’s code for.

 

It happens months after Derek returns from Beacon Hills after their New Year’s break. Everyone takes this turns in relating all the gory, dirty, and boring details of their new year break while they do their stretches. Coach Finstock glares at them from the bleaches but Boyd chalks it up to him just being impatient and awaiting his turn. Finstock apparently went to Ibiza for new years. Absolutely no one wants to know more, and they collectively agree that Derek’s turn has been bumped up to replacd Coach's. Derek went back to his hometown to meet up with his sister and his friends- or as Boyd likes to call them, the pack of mismatched puppies. He tells them stories of his little sister Cora, whom the team has met and can never forget and can all confirm that _terrifying_ runs in Hale blood. He tells them stories of the _actual_ _Labrador_ Scott- apparently he proposed to the Netflix chick- and of course they endure a rant about the amazing and wonderful Stiles. It’s cut short by Coach’s whistle. A good thing, because even though the team absolutely loathes the girl, she sounds like a absolute unit of fun when drunk.

Stiles sends them a pack of homemade granola bars that are chocolate coated, and the team agrees that they are almost ready to forgive Stiles for the whole rejection mess. Then February fourteenth rolls in, and amongst Derek’s multitude of flowers and teddy bears and chocolates – because the man looks good, and the man is the captain of the football team and he also does a degree in History and checks all of the right boxes- from the plethora of girls that are hunting him, is a massive basket of granola bars, lemon bars, cupcakes and red tulips. The label says Philadelphia.

The card says, _Happy Valentine’s day Der-Bear. I love you and miss your stupid grumpy face. Have a good one, don’t be a sourwolf- Stiles_.

It’s the only basket Derek keeps, everything else winds up in the trash and the chocolates are gifted to Erica and her friends. Derek doesn’t let anyone touch his valentine’s day food, and let’s out an actual honest to god growl when Matthew accidentally does. They all call him _Der-Bear_ till the joke grows stale, and secretly thank Alex for shoving the man in the right direction. And they all, Coach included, thank the good Gods above for allowing them to love Stiles again.

 

It happens on October 31st. They have a game the following day, and it’s the biggest game of the season. And Derek is seething. He’s _depressing_. He’s _moping_. _He’s...miserable_. Non of them can celebrate Halloween, due to rigorous pre-game practices, so they all agree to meet at the loft for a small Shitty Horror Movie marathon. Derek looks like he desperately wants to protest, but chooses to inform them that he can’t make it instead. They are all on edge. When they make it back to the loft, there’s a big gift package full of the most random shit, lots for baked goods, and a big fluffy black wolf soft toy waiting for them at the door. Derek takes it in and looks like his going to cry. When Boys sneaks a peak at the tag on the wrapping paper that is crumpled up in the trash four days later, after their big game, it says;

 _Happy five year anniversary babe. I’m so sorry I can’t make it out for your big game, and please don’t worry about not being able to make it up to here. You can make it up to me another time, I’ll hold you to it don’t worry. Love Stiles your greatest trophy you’ll ever receive, regionals can suck my ass, and the best lay ever Stilinski_.

Firstly, Boyd thinks, Stiles Stilinski is a stupid fucking name. But more importantly, _five years?_

 

It happens after their last game. It’s a week before the university shuts it’s door for winter break, and the whole team is buzzing in anticipation for the eggnog and turkey feast that awaits them back at the loft. They usually do it at Marshall's place, and they usually order from Chang’s- because Chinese is always appropriate and Chang doesn’t use MSG so Alex’s weak stomach can consume it. But Derek announced that they’d be having a proper and real Christmas feast at the loft this year. Actual real and goddamn filling food after a game is akin to heavenly salvation. It’s in the locker room, two hours left for the game, that Derek casually announces,

“Oh Stiles wants to know the seat near Erica is available for him to sit in?”

Boyd chokes on his own breath.

“Um, fuck...yeah?”

The team just gapes.

“Great. I’ll text him about it.”

“Hold on- Stiles, the Stiles, the baking god, lemon bars extraordinaire, person who we thought was breaking your fragile heart but who you’ve actually been doing six ways to Sunday Stiles is coming?” Alex rushes, getting it all out in one long breath.

“Don’t talk about Stiles like that,” Derek growls.

It’s scary, it really is. But no one’s paying attention to him.

“Dude holy shit I’m not dressed right.”

“Oh my god, what if we lose? What will Stiles think? What if we look like total losers?”

“Is the loft clean? The loft better be clean, is it clean?”

“I should have gotten a fucking haircut, thanks for the head up Derek, really looking out for us-“

“What the fuck is going on?” Derek interrupts, “What the hell are you all so anxious about?”

The team gapes.

“Derek,” Matthew begins, hands held up like he’s approaching a rabid animal, “This is _Stiles_.”

He says it like it’s obvious. Which, really, it should be.

“I know?” Derek looks so utterly confused that it’s sad.

It really is.

“Stiles is legendary,” Alex offers, “We eat Stiles' lemon bars. Stiles takes care of us. We need Stiles to like us.”

“Stiles is like the mom.”

“Look, we’ve invested a lot in Stiles. We know everything about Stiles."

“Stiles needs to like us, Derek. Needs.”

“Okay shut up, all of you,” Derek huffs, “Stiles doesn’t cut his hair ever, not since he left high school, so he won’t care about your haircut Walters. Tribiani, Stiles is a mess. He always is, he won’t complain about your clothes. Stiles will like you all fine. Just don’t fucking lose okay? I’ve got to impress-“

“Yeah buddy, you and us both,” Alex nods solemnly, “You and us both.”

Boyd is almost positive he botched up the grammar in that one, but the sentiment stands.

They win the game. Obviously. They play like they have everything to lose, because they do, and then they all stand in their sweaty uniforms, waiting for Stiles to appear in the parking lot. They have each one looking at all directions.

“What do you think she looks like?” Alex whispers.

No one’s really discussed it. What’s Derek’s type?

“Tall and scary,” Marshall suggests.

“Long brown hair,” Mason adds.

“Just hot. Some model chick,” is Matthew's contribution.

They keep their eye out for a hot model who looks like she can kill you in an instant. So naturally, when it happens, they are all left in a state of shock. A gangly kid skips towards their pack- large Bambi eyes, lean arms and legs that look like they fail him often, the messiest mop of brown hair and sporting their team's red hoodie. Except the kid doesn’t walk past them. Instead, the skip turns into a run and suddenly Derek is running too. In fact they seem to be running  towards each other. And suddenly they have armfuls of each other, and they are _twirling_ and Derek is _laughing_ \- honest to god laughing with his entire body- and the kid is _kissing_ his face and suddenly Derek is making out with the kid and they stop looking. They turn around. They aren’t creeps. Except for Alex, who studies them intently, and gives the rest of the team a running commentary on the on goings.

“They sure are making out for a long time. Now they are just hugging. Nope, Derek is actually making out with his neck. You can’t really tell, but if you look at it from this angle, you can. Now they are just leaning third foreheads together, bunch of saps. Get to the good stuff, am I right or am I right? Can you guys believe it, this is _Stiles_. We actually have seen _Stiles_. Crazy right?”

Boyd can agree. It’s crazy. Almost unreal.

“And Stiles is a _man_. Or boy. Who would have thought?”

Boyd doesn’t know how he missed this. In all of the daily hour long Stiles rants, had Derek omitted this information or has Boyd's mind just decide to hop over it like it's playing hop scotch? The looks on the other guys' faces suggest that they're wondering the same thing; trying to recall how in the hell they'd missed it and all secretly glad they never opted to become detectives. Sherlock Holmes would weep. 

“They are back to making out, in case anyone is wondering.”

 

It just so happens that Stiles is more amazing in person than he is as a mystery muffin man. He talks non stop, which substitutes for Derek’s painstaking silence. He’s funny and a raging nerd, which substitutes for Derek's lack of pop culture knowledge. He gets on Derek’s nerves constantly, which is amazing to witness. Because Derek doesn’t actually get annoyed at Stiles- _ever_. Sure he looks annoyed, but Boyd actually lives with the man. He’s seen Derek annoyed. This is not it. He looks fond, and somehow in a twist of events, is an _actual_ _Labrador_ around the boy. He kind of follows Stiles around, is always trying to hug him, and is always trying to save him from tripping over and dying. They are extremely perfect for each other. Stiles also cooks their entire feast, and the team pledges their life to him. Their allegiance stands with Stiles and they vow to take his side at every instance, and Derek almost looks pleased about their mutiny. And even though Boyd gets sexiled out of the loft and has to crash at Alex's dingy campus dorm because Erica is having a bachelorette party for some girl in her class, it’s all good because Derek is beyond happy for days and Stiles pinky promises to visit Derek in February and he leaves them a shit ton of baked good. He also kisses Derek on the cheek before he leaves, and Boyd has never seen the man blush so red. He has a picture of it too- he really loves Stiles.

 

 

It apparently happens in Beacon Hills during summer vacation, on a picnic date. They don’t get much details, but Derek returns an almost married man.

It’s declared that Boyd is the best man, so the rest of the team battles for positions on the wedding party.

It's in privacy of their loft, Boyd asks Derek if he’s sure about the best man thing. Derek tells him that there’s no one else in the world he’s imagine by his side.

“I’d have Isaac do it, but he and Cora are walking me down the aisle.”

Boyd might cry. He’s not too sure.

“I don’t know how I’m going to do it.”

“Do what?” Boyd asks.

“Wait till next April. I want to be married right now.”

They don’t elope, because Stiles’ father is the Sheriff and the Sheriff would not approve of a Vegas wedding and the Sheriff has a gun. So he does wait till April, but he spends his time waiting with the stupidest grin on his face and a habit of always referring to himself as a married man. Derek is happy, overflowing with it.

The team thinks Stiles might be the best thing to happen since Marshall ran straight into the Knights Quarterback's ass.

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is more than welcome.


End file.
